


Sasha James, Hypnotist

by Thedupshadove



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Chapter 3 also has what's basically roleplay of a dubcon scenario, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Hypnotism, Multi, Poly Archives Rights Perhaps?, Sasha uses her evil powers for good, but trust me Tim knows what he's doing, sexual content in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedupshadove/pseuds/Thedupshadove
Summary: Sasha turns out to have some training as a hypnotist, andboy,  could the rest of the team stand to unwind. But will a set of simple favors turn into something a great deal more complicated?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims/Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James, Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 23
Kudos: 231





	1. In Sopor, Veritas

“Are you sure you want to do this? You seem nervous.”

Martin sighs. “I guess I am. A...a little. But, well, with everything that’s been going on lately...I mean with Jane Prentiss and having to move in here, and now you say you’ve seen something as well...I’m just so wound up all the time, and I’m worried that it’s starting to effect my performance and I remember you mentioning that you actually had training as a hypnotist, so maybe you can help me. I mean, if you’d rather not, then--”

She smiles. She’s actually happy to have a chance to practice, and anyway, who can say no to that face? 

“Sure, I’d be happy to do it. But it’d be good if I better understood what kind of thing you wanted.”

“What do you mean?

“Well, I can take you down, but then what? Just let you sit there?”

“Oh! Well, er, I guess...being better able to turn off stress when I need to would come in useful? Like, letting go of things I can’t change, and that?”

She gets the feeling he isn’t telling her the whole truth of what he wants, but “Alright. Sit down on that couch, then.”

They’re in the room that he’s started living in. There’s a couch, and a desk and chair, and a bed in the corner. She considers having him sit on the bed for maximum comfort and to get him into a “sleep” mindset, but thinks better of it. Doesn’t want to seem like she’s hitting on him (even if she wouldn’t mind doing that…) and beds can have a mental association with sex at least as strong as the one with sleep. With this being after hours and the building being mostly empty and all, she doesn’t want to give him the wrong idea. It could make him uncomfortable, and if nothing else, that would be counter-intuitive to their current purpose. 

She sees him hunched awkwardly over on the couch, playing with his hands in his lap. “Martin, you need to be comfortable for this to work. Would laying down make it any easier?”

“Um, maybe.” He does, stretching out and clasping his hands over his stomach. Much better. “So, should I, I dunno, focus on anything?”

“Well, you don’t strictly have, to, but if you want to, it certainly could help.” She casts about the room for anything that would serve, wishing that she more routinely wore jewelry to the office. Fortunately, she spots a small statue of a kitten on a corner shelf, which she takes down and places on the small table in front of the couch. Then she moves over to stand just off to the side of him. 

“Alright, focus your gaze on the kitten. Take a nice deep breath in...hold it...and exhale. Keep breathing, and narrow your focus down to the kitten and the sound of my voice. Try to focus on relaxing, and when your eyes start to feel heavy you can just go ahead and close them….”  
It isn’t long before his eyes are closed, his body’s gone limp, and his breathing is slow and regular.  
“Can you hear me, Martin?”

“Yes.”  
“Good,” she gets ready to go into some typical script phrases for dealing with stress, but remembers the nagging feeling that he wasn’t telling her everything. “Martin, were you entirely honest about what you wanted from this session?”

“...No.”

“What was it that you really wanted?”

His voice, when it comes, is very small. “Hold me?”

She feels her heart squeeze. Seeing the way he tends to act around the office...well, it’s easy to armchair theorize about what someone’s life has been like, but in any case it’s plain to see that he wants approval, affection. 

She can give that to him. 

She moves over to the couch, before realizing that as he’s currently positioned, it’s going to be difficult for her to get him comfortably in her arms. She could have him sit up, but…

“Martin, would it make you uncomfortable if we moved over to the bed?”

This time his response is fast and, for a man still in trance, very emphatic. “No.”

“Okay.” She reaches out and takes his hand. “Then stand up, and let me guide you, alright?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” and he does just that, rising only a little sluggishly and following behind her, never letting go of her hand as they take the handful of steps over to the bed, where she sits down and gently pulls him after her. Then she lays them both down and wraps him up in her arms, encouraging the hint she sees of him nestling his head onto her chest. She strokes at his hair a little, enjoying how soft it is. “Just breathe, and rest. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

They lay there for a while, and the combination of mattress and pillow and warmth and breathing sounds has her feeling a little sleepy herself. But there’s a question nagging at the back of her mind. 

“Martin, why didn’t you tell me what you really wanted when I fist asked?”

Even in his sleep, she can see his brow knit faintly. “Didn’t want to...be weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re pretty. And I kind of...like you. But I didn’t want to….”

“Didn’t want to what?”

“Say anything. Scare you. Seem like I was just trying to hit on you.”

“I see. Well Martin, for what it’s worth, I kind of like you too. And I certainly don’t mind that this is where the evening took us.”

“Mmmmmm.” His brow smooths out and he smiles, nuzzling even closer into her embrace. 

No small part of her wants to simply stay like this, but it’s getting late, and she hasn’t brought an overnight bag. So after a few more minutes of holding, she finally asks, “Can you be ready to wake up now?”

He sounds a little regretful, but not very “Mmm-hmmm.”

“Alright. I’ll count from one to three, and when I reach three, you’ll wake up feeling refreshed, and much calmer. One, feel your mind and body start to stir...two, approaching wakefulness now...and three.”

He opens his eyes, and as he takes in his surroundings she can all but see the events of his trance settle into his memory. He looks at her, joy mixing with disbelief. “Sasha...”

She smiles at him. “Yeah, I know. But I do have to be getting home. We can talk more tomorrow?”

He gives a tiny little delighted laugh, “O...okay.”

She leans in and gives him a quick peck on the lips, “Sleep well.”

“Well if you’re telling me to, then I can hardly help it, can I?”

She laughs at that as she rises and gathers her things. On her way home in the darkening twilight, she savors the glow in her stomach. She really feels like this might have potential. But still, the way she could swear she’s seen him look at Jon...well, she’ll worry about that later.


	2. I am Tired,  I am Weary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be Jon's chapter, and it still mostly is, but there was a scene with Martin and Sasha that had to go somewhere.

She and Martin have been...well they’ve been _something_ for a little over a week. Sneaking each other glances all throughout the day, finding excuses to squeeze each other’s hand or shoulder, one of them always ready when the other could use a cup of coffee. Not to mention that she’s stayed late most nights to spend time with him in his room, curled up together, talking, snuggling, once or twice doing a great deal more than snuggling. Once he’s no longer limited by trance-induced lethargy, he turns out to have wonderfully skillful hands... Still, she sees him blush and stammer whenever Jon gives him one of those pointed looks. So one night, as they’re lying in bed, she inwardly steels herself while outwardly giving him even more attention than usual, and poses the question. 

“Do you have a crush on Jon?”

She feels him tense in her arms. “Ummm.”

“Hey,” she murmers, “It’s alright. You can tell me.” She begins to scritch around his temples, which she’s learned by now are a sensitive spot, attention to which tends to calm him down. She realizes that she’s sort of using hypnosis techniques, and feels a pang of guilt at doing so without his knowledge, but….she needs to know. 

“Well...yes. But I really do like you as well! And Tim, honestly. You’re all kind of...amazing. In different ways. But I mean, if I’m with you, I’m not gonna go chasing anybody else. I promise.”

She cocks her head to one side. “I’m...not so sure you need to make that promise.”

“W...what do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing I can see your point about both of them, if you get me. And I could be wrong, but for a while now I’ve had my suspicions...why don’t we just say that if things come up, it doesn’t necessarily have to stay just you and me—would that be alright with you? And I do mean _really_ alright.”

He stares at her for a long moment, seeming to process ideas that hadn’t occurred to him. “You know...I think it would. As long as it’s the other two and not, you know, just some random person. But...”

“But what?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if _you_ got the chance with one or both of them. But I’m pretty sure _I_ won’t.”

She smiles. “Bet you a coffee?”

As it happens, the next day Jon pulls her aside and asks if she wouldn’t mind staying just a little after work to “help him with something”. She says sure, after teasingly telling him that if it takes more than an hour, _he’s_ putting in the paperwork to make Elias give her overtime. 

They’re in his office. As he turns to face her she sees him drop his shoulders and let out a sigh, and she realizes just how much he looks like absolute Hell. She’s noticed him looking tired, of course. Stressed. Frequently rather distracted and a bit more prone than usual to snapping over trivial things (though he always apologizes). But it’s only now that she sees the sheer... _abrasion_ of his nerves etched into every line of his face and the slumped nature of his posture. She can’t hold back, “Good grief, Jon!”

He rubs at his eyes. “I know. It...it’s been ages since I got proper sleep. It used to be I was just staying a lot of overtime to work through Gertrude’s damn mess, but ever since Martin came back I...I don’t really sleep even when I go home. I’ll hear some tiny noise and expect it to mark the beginning of my own siege of terror. I mostly just lie awake and get, oh, maybe two or three real hours a night? I’m...I’m coming apart. I can feel it. And I can’t afford this, can’t go on like this...Sasha, I need help.”

Without thinking, she takes his hand. “I’ll do whatever I can. But what exactly do you want?”

He looks up at her. “Were you serious when you said you had training in—in hypnotism? Not just that you took one class or got your friend to go under when you were both drunk?”

She chooses not to take offense. “I was dead serious. I’ll vouch for my skill any day.”

He purses his lips and nods. “Then maybe you can help me. If I can manage not to be an impossible subject.”

“Why would you think you would be?”

He sighs again and looks down at his hands. “I...it’s too complicated to get into why, but I have... _issues_ with the idea of somebody else influencing my mind. More-so than I assume just anybody would, I mean. And I know that hypnosis doesn’t really work like that, and even if you wanted to make me do something really horrible you couldn’t, and I’m being silly, but still, if I can’t shut off this fear I might not be able to relax enough for this to work--”

She cuts him off, “Jon, if you won’t be comfortable with this than we don’t need to do it.”

He looks up at her, and she can see despair all over him “But I need to _sleep_!” He slumps down into his chair and drops his head into his hands, “G-d I need to sleep...”

Again she feels her chest tighten. She’s always been a bit of a sucker for someone who needs her, and here he is, obviously desperate for any kind of help. “I might be able to help you. As long as you feel you can relax at all around me, I can try to keep the imagery away from...well, from anything that would bother you.”

“You’re sure?”

“There are lots of different flavors of hypnosis. Some of them _are_ more focused on things like control and submission, but others are more about helping the subject communicate more effectively with themselves. I don’t need to dominate you, just...guide you, a little.”

“Okay...okay.” He takes a deep breath in and she sees him focus on un-tensing his shoulders. Good first step. 

“Lean back in the chair,” she says, making sure to strike a balance between sounding confident and not sounding too commanding. “Close your eyes, and keep breathing slowly and deeply. Just try not to think about anything too intensely. I know you’re stressed. I know you’re scared. It’s not unreasonable. But here and now, you can rest. You can let go. You can lay your burdens down for the moment, because I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

His face has gone slack, his head started to roll. She sees his hand twitching strangely and, on impulse, reaches out again to take it. He squeezes hers back, not exceptionally tightly, but firmly enough to make it clear that she shouldn’t let go. After letting him breathe for another minute, she feels ready to start the conversation. “Are you there, Jon?”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“Good. Can you tell me any more about your trouble sleeping? Is there anything besides what you’ve already said?”

“Feel bad.”

Well _that’s_ interesting. “About what?”

“Martin.”

“Can you tell me more?”

“I was so harsh on him. He was always so nice and I was just mean. And he went back to that building because he didn’t want to disappoint me and he went through two weeks of Hell and it was my fault...”

She feels herself wince. She can’t exactly tell him that he’s _wrong_ , but…

“I’m sure he doesn’t blame you.”

“He should.”

“But he doesn’t want to.”

“He’s so nice. And I’ve blown it.”

This gives her pause. “Blown what?”

“He’ll never like me now. I’m just the scary grumpy boss. Probably I shouldn't be thinking about him this way since I’m _any_ kind of boss, but he’s so sweet. And soft. And I wish...”

“Wish what?”

“Wish he’d want me. But he’s just scared of me, and I can’t even blame him. Why do I do this? Why am I so--”

Again she cuts him off. “Try not to focus on that self-recrimination, okay? It’s not useful. If you want to change how you act, try instead to visualize what the better pattern would be, and focus on how to put it in place.”

In his half-sleep, he smiles. “Sweet Sasha. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Eh?”

“So bright. And Martin so nice. And Tim so funny. And you’re all wonderful and I can’t be feeling this way. But I can’t stop.”

She can’t deal with this while he’s under. Not when he still needs her help with a very real and entirely different problem. “Can you set those feelings aside for now, while we work on helping you sleep?”

“I do it all the time.”

“Okay. Think about it like this. Can you be ready to deal with whatever problems come our way if you’re exhausted?”

“No.”

“Then try to remember that. You _need_ sleep, just like you need food and water. So whatever you may be feeling, try to let yourself set it aside at night, so you can get the rest you need. And then, whether it’s dangerous worm women or your own desire to be closer to others, you can always deal with it in the morning. Hold on to that.”

“Okay.”

“Alright then. Are you ready to wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it. At your own pace, just let yourself come back up.”

His eyes flutter open and he sits back up straight, already looking a little better. But just like with Martin, the memories of the session soon settle back into his mind, and unlike Martin, he does not look overjoyed. Instead he blanches, and then draws himself up and puts on that I’m A Professional mask. “Sasha, regarding what I said--”

“Wait. Before you finish that. Let me just tell you that I quite like you. And I would not object at all to, shall we say, a little judicious unprofessionalism.”

His jaw all but drops. “I...see. Well, that’s...” He looks honestly rather lost, and she suspects he may be straining against old habits. She holds back, lets him sort through his own feelings. Finally he looks her dead in the eye. “That is cheering news. But perhaps it’s news that we ought to deal with more thoroughly tomorrow.” Then he seems to remember something. “Wait, aren’t you and Martin...”

She grins at that. “We are. And as to what you told me about him, I really think you should talk to him yourself. But in any case the short of it is that he won’t object to you and me growing closer...and nor would _I_ object to you growing closer with _him_.”

He draws in his mouth again. “Well, I’m glad to hear that I’m not, ahem, ‘stealing anybody’s girl’, so to speak. But I doubt very much that he’ll be interested in adding a third line.”

Again she smiles. “Talk to him.”

The next day, Jon does indeed ask if he can speak to Martin for a moment. Poor Martin looks terribly nervous, and she tries to catch his eye and give him a reassuring smile. When the two of them walk back out of Jon’s office Martin is once again equal parts stunned and giddy, and Jon is smiling and looking at the floor. 

As he passes by her desk Martin gives Sasha a great big grin and flaps his hands up and down in silent joy. She responds by giving him a big thumbs up. 

That evening the three of them converge in the basement room, for a lot of talking and a lot of cuddling.

Worms or no worms, things are looking better by the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh, why don't I write a cute little Polyarchives fic where Sasha is a hypnotist having fun with her boys!  
> Me: *Realizes that, given the Mr. Spider incident, Jon probably has some...hangups about his mind being played with.  
> Me: I'mm Boo-Boo the Fool.


	3. Black Magic Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters were mostly fluff and feels, so Tim politely tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me that I had rated this story M.

She and Tim are working on sorting files when he looks over at her and asks “Are you having fun?”

“Pardon?”

“Playing with your boys? Got both of them hanging off your arm, and now they’re cuddling up on each other too. You _must_ be proud of yourself. Did you use your irresistible power over the minds of men to make this happen? Tsk Tsk.”

He’s teasing, of course, but she thinks she can hear something like hurt under his light tone. She remembers the glances she’s seen him sneak at her when he thinks she isn’t looking. Remembers the glint in his eye that he’d tried to hide the first time she mentioned her somewhat unusual skill. Remembers the moment, near the climax of their one brief hook-up, when he’d breathlessly called her goddess. _Hmmmmm_ …..

She raises her head to meet his gaze. “Do you want to find out?”

She can almost see his breath catch. “What?”

She stands, curls her mouth into a deliberately wicked smile, and backs towards the door to the break room, beckoning after her. He rises, mouth agape, and follows, walking like a marionette. 

When they’re both inside she reaches behind him to close the door, turning on the standing fan for good measure. That should be privacy enough. Martin is out interviewing somebody, Jon is in his office recording, (and _nothing_ can get through to him when he’s recording), and Elias almost never comes down here (A nice enough man, Sasha supposes, but really so oblivious). 

With that taken care of, she leans up against him and continues her unfaltering eye contact. “Look at me, Tim. Look into my eyes. Keep all your focus on my eyes—don’t look away. Don’t look away and don’t try to resist. Just feel your mind grow foggy and your thoughts grow vague. You’re slipping, slipping away with every second as your desire for me entwines with my power. You can’t hold out much longer, and deep down I don’t think you even want to. So just let yourself slip away into my embrace, my warm embrace that leaves you with no doubt that you are about to give yourself into the hands of a goddess, right where you belong. You’re almost there, all that’s left to do is just let. Go. And.” she clicks her fingers, “SLEEP.”

His eyes snap shut and his head falls forward onto her shoulder. She uses one finger to tilt his chin back up. “You’re mine now. Completely in my spell, and all you know is blissful obedience and blind worship.

His face splits into a goofy grin. “Yes, goddess.”

It occurs to her that he may not exactly be in what most people would call a “real” trance.

It further occurs to her that who cares?

She takes his hand in hers. “Follow me.” And she pulls him, unresisting, over to the table, where she sits in a chair that was facing out. 

“Get on your knees, pet.” And he does. 

“When I next click my fingers, I want you to open your eyes. You’ll be able to see the world around you, but will still be just as deep under my control as you are now.” _Click_

His eyes open, and he resumes staring at her like she’s every good and holy thing combined. She pulls one breast up out of her shirt and bra, and his jaw drops as his gaze involuntarily moves down to it, first simply drawn by the movement, then transfixed by what he sees. 

“Oh, you like the look of that? Good, because I want you to put that mouth of yours right. Here,” she says, pointing to her exposed nipple. 

Eagerly, he leans forward and takes the exposed flesh into his mouth, kneading it ever so slightly with his lips. She, meanwhile, pushes his head in closer and strokes at his hair. 

“That’s my pet. So sweet, and so willing to do anything I say. Nothing in your head but obedience and devotion, I am everything to you.”

She both hears and feels a muffled “Yemph”

After about a minute, she figures it’s time to change tracks. All it takes is a glance down to see that he’s more than ready. 

“I want you to lie back.”, and he does, stretching out on the floor. 

She begins to unbuckle his trousers, and when he moans slightly she applies pressure down on his crotch. “Oh, is this good? You like this?”

“Yes, goddess.”

Soon enough she’s got his trousers and boxers pulled down, as well as her own tights and panties. Then it’s just a matter of lifting her skirt out of the way, and she’s ready to sink down onto him, enjoying the little gasping moan he lets out as she does so. She rocks more than she bounces, contracting and loosening her walls every now and again, all in the name of shaking him to his very core. As she continues to grind down she begins to speak. “What am I?”

He’s breathless and trembling. “Beautiful.”

She shakes her head and eases up, just a little. “What _am_ I?”

He looks almost near tears. “My..my queen!”

She begins to pick up the pace again. “Closer, pet. Let’s try it once more. _What_ am I?”

She feels him shudder and convulse as climax hits him. “My _goddess_!” and hearing him say that sends her over the edge as well, stifling a shout as she stares down at her toy, all that height and hard muscle laid low and undone by sheer force of lust. For her. Oh, it’s good. 

As she collapses onto his chest and strokes his hair, he reaches his arms around her in return, pretense of genuine entrancement pretty well abandoned. “Nice to know you’ve got some attention to spare for me. But you’re still hogging all the cute boys.”

 _Well well well_ , she once again thinks to herself, _the plot thickens_. How best to broach...and then she has a wicked idea. She raises up and shifts a little so that they’re once again face-to-face. “Look at my eyes again, Tim. Remember that you’re in trance. Remember that your mind is open to my suggestions.” He raises an eyebrow, then smiles and lets his face go slack. “When I click my fingers once more, you’re going to wake up. You won’t remember being placed into trance. You’ll believe that we simply snuck into the break room for a quick shag, which you will of course be thrilled about. But at the end of the day today, instead of going home, you’ll feel compelled to wait at your desk for 10 minutes, then go down to the bedroom in artifact storage—the one Martin has been sleeping in. You may wonder why you feel this impulse, but nevertheless, you will heed it.” 

Here she punctuates her speech with a wink, and is rewarded with an answering eyelid-flutter. “Yes, goddess.” is all he says. 

“Excellent. Now, ready yourself, because wakefulness is coming...now.” and she clicks her fingers. 

He does a very convincing job of focusing his eyes and coming out of a stupor. “Well, that was...”

She nods. “Mmmm-hmmm. But we should probably get back to work.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I suppose so.” And so they hastily put their clothes back on, and walk back out of the breakroom, each grabbing a biscuit from the box on the table for good measure. They needn’t have worried—Jon is still recording and Martin isn’t back. 

All through the rest of the day Sasha can barely keep the smirk off her face. She already knows that Jon will be staying late with Martin, and they’ll be expecting to see her as well. Before tomorrow morning, everything will be in place.


	4. Ties That Bind

She knocks on the door to Martin’s room, and is met with a cheerful “Come in!” She finds Jon and Martin on the couch, the smaller man being quite _thoroughly_ snuggled. She settles down on his other side and joins in, scritching his back and kissing the top of his head. He blushes, but smiles and leans into it. 

“I’m fairly certain that in just a few minutes I’ll have a surprise for the two of you.” she announces as Martin reaches one arm behind Jon to take hold of her hand. 

“Oooo”, says Martin, “Have you ordered in take-out?”

“Well...I’ve ordered in something, at any rate.”

And just like that, there’s another knock at the door. This time it’s Sasha who pipes up “It’s open.”

In walks tall, fit, ever-charming Tim Stoker, looking apprehensive and unsure and trying to hide it. His usual smooth tone feels stretched out thin as he glances around the room and says “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Sasha smiles. “I’d wager that you’re completing something. Jon, Martin, unless I’m very much mistaken, Tim has something he’d like to say to you.” She gives him a wink and an encouraging nod. 

He takes a deep breath. “Well, I, ummm….I snogged your girlfriend this afternoon.” He punctuates this with a hollow little laugh.*

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Good for you?”

Martin smiles. “If you’re worried about us being jealous, you needn’t. After all, it’s you.”

Tim’s gaze has found a focal point on the ceiling. “No, yeah, good, and I figured she wouldn’t have gone for it if it would have been a problem.” He licks at his lips. Sasha can’t remember ever seeing him like this. She’s just on the cusp of trying some sort of lunatic “Voice of Command” approach when Tim screws his eyes shut and nearly whispers “AndIknowyouguysareallthreetogetherandIwashopingyoumightbeinterestedinmakingroomforonemorebecauseIreallylikeyouall.”

He then opens his eyes, his breathing a little unsteady. There’s silence for a moment, as everyone takes that in, and then Martin’s face splits into a wide smile. “Well, I mean, yeah, that sounds wonderful. Er.” He suddenly remembers that there’s one person in the room whose opinion on the matter he doesn’t know. He turns to face Jon. 

Jon, meanwhile, is looking up at Tim with a little wonderment and a surprising amount of tenderness. “That sounds like a thoroughly delightful proposition.”

Tim grins, much of that famous confidence coming back now that he’s been accepted. “Budge up a bit, then?”

However, the couch just isn’t the ideal vessel for the level of multi-way cuddling that wants to get done, so they find themselves moving across to the bed, which does have just enough room provided they don’t mind all being quite close together. Which of course they don’t. 

Lying there, pressed between arm and shoulder and chest, Sasha feels her heart grow full, and is suddenly seized by the urge to say something, to speak this into proper existence and make it real. She reaches out, stroking Jon’s hair with one hand and Tim’s neck with the other, as she nuzzles into Martin’s chest. 

“We’re here. We’re together. We’ve made this thing and it’s going to be wonderful. I can feel something, as if there’s energy pulsing through and between us. The force of our feelings binding us together, knitting us up into something sure and strong. As we snuggle close, and feel each other’s movements and each other’s breath, I believe that this will create a bond not easily torn asunder. Do you three feel it too?”

She’s rewarded with three affirmative “Mmmm”s in various registers. “Then close your eyes for a while. Take the time to feel it as you create it, fully and truly.” Then she closes her eyes as well, adds her mind to the spinning quartet and looses herself to the imagery of threads binding her to the other three, just as they were bound to her and to each other. 

After a while there seems to be an unspoken agreement that the ceremony is done, and it’s time to open their eyes. They look at each other, and Sasha is the first to break the silence with a fond laugh. “My boys.”

Jon twists his face into a comic mask of affront “ _My_ assistants.”

Tim smirks. “My trio of devoted admirers, since I’m clearly the hot one.”

Martin just looks at them, his face betraying a heart that runeth over. “My _loves_.”

* _Cleaning the story up a bit_ , Sasha can’t help but think to herself. Oh well, Jon _would_ probably object if he knew the whole truth of what had happened during business hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bed in this random basement room is so big because it used to belong to Jonah back in the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with sequel! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25308064)


End file.
